


A Special Evening

by ddagent



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Marriage Proposal, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: Jaime is adamant that Brienne is planning to break up with him over a romantic dinner. Brienne, however, has other plans in mind.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 98
Kudos: 371





	A Special Evening

**Author's Note:**

> So, it’s been a rough week, and I’ve been overwhelmed with anxiety more often than not. But I was determined to write something today, and here we are. Enjoy.

Jaime knew three things for certain: he loved Brienne Tarth, the last two years as her boyfriend had been the best of his life, and tonight, Brienne was going to break up with him. 

“You can’t be sure of that,” Tyrion proffered as Jaime fiddled with his tie. 

“Of course, I am. I’ve known Brienne for ten years.” Rivals for three of them; friends for another four. Then a year spent dancing around each other until the sexual tension between them became _unbearable_. “She’s going to end things tonight at dinner.” Jaime let the two ends of his tie fall around his neck. “And to think, I was going to propose tonight.” 

During research for a paper on the War of the Five Kings, they had found the date that the Kingslayer had escaped the Stark camp with the Maid of Tarth. As descendants, Jaime had found it a romantic notion to propose to Brienne on the night their ancestors had first met. No one else would understand it, but Brienne would. So, Jaime had picked a restaurant, spent _hours_ in all the jewellery shops in King’s Landing (and several in Tarth and Estermont), and had been all set to propose on this very night. 

But then Brienne had grown... _weird._

It had started simply enough. Spending more time with Margaery rather than him; cancelling plans to go to a re-enactment in favour of a _shopping_ trip. Jaime had brushed away any concerns. But then Brienne had grown secretive. Texting through episodes of _Twin Swords;_ clicking out of browsers and hiding her phone screen. Distracted at home, and at work. Jaime knew the signs. He’d spent years ignoring them with his last major relationship, only for her to rip out his still-beating heart and laugh at the hole in his chest. He knew Brienne would never cheat. But he also knew she was _far_ too good for him, and it seemed Brienne had finally realised it. 

His brother threw a coaster at him. “Brienne loves you.”

“I want her to love me. That’s not the same thing.” 

That cloud hung over Jaime as he left his brother’s apartment and headed to the restaurant he had picked out for tonight. He’d offered to cancel, but Brienne had insisted. _Nice public place,_ he thought as he approached. _Probably a good idea. Less chance of me bawling like a child in a packed bistro._ As Jaime drew closer, he saw Brienne waiting out front. His heart, as it always did, began to race at the sight of her. Blonde hair falling into soft curls atop broad shoulders; a new blue dress barely concealing her long legs. A guileless face and eyes that had held him since their very first meeting. To anyone else, it would look like two people going to dinner. But Jaime could spot her teeth buried in her bottom lip; her hands constantly re-opening and closing her purse.

 _She’s nervous about ending things,_ he thought. _Maybe she won’t go through with it, and I’ll have another few days with her. Please, Maiden, let me have a little longer with her._

Jaime joined Brienne in front of the restaurant; pressing a kiss to the blotches of pink forming on the curve of her cheek. He lingered as long as he could, as long as he _dared._ “You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered; his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

Brienne shivered. “We should–we should head inside.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Originally, Jaime had reserved a table by the fireplace. Soft, romantic, with a five-course Dornish tasting menu. Perhaps it was a good thing his plans to propose had gone by the wayside, as they had ended up on the patio instead, overlooking the sun falling across Blackwater Bay. They were the only couple out there, too. Jaime would have been overwhelmed by the romantic setting if the voice in his head hadn’t suggested that Brienne had arranged this so as to not make a scene in front of the other diners.

They settled themselves at the small table, where the waiter produced two glasses of the finest Arbor champagne. Jaime stared at the flute as if it were a noose. “Are we toasting to something?” 

“I’d rather hoped we could toast to us,” Brienne said; a crease forming across her brow at his tone. 

“But you’re breaking up with me.” 

Brienne spluttered. “Since when?” 

“Since–since—” Jaime sagged in his seat. “You’ve been distracted, and distant, and I thought you’ve _finally_ figured out that you’re _far_ too good for me.” 

“ _Jaime.”_ Brienne reached across the table and took his hand; her thumb brushing the inside of his wrist. “I love you. I’m never going to find anyone I love as much as you. There’s only one of you, remember?” 

He laughed; the tension within him easing with every caress of her thumb against his skin. “So, we’re not breaking up.”

“Not unless you’re planning on it.” 

Jaime shook his head vigorously. “Not in a thousand years, and another thousand after that.”

“Good. So.” Brienne lifted her champagne flute, still clutching his hand. “To us.”

“To us.” 

After that, their evening took a significant upswing. There was champagne, and a five-course medieval tasting menu; including a pigeon pie with a crown baked atop the crust. The sun caught the ocean in Brienne’s eyes, and, between course two and three, Jaime leant across the table and brushed his mouth against hers. He pulled away, leaving his girlfriend flushed beaming. Between courses three and four, Brienne popped to the ladies and Jaime fired off a text to Tyrion. 

> Brienne NOT breaking up with me.  
>  _No shit, you nitwit._  
>  Can you go to our flat and get the engagement ring? It’s in my office drawer; top righthand side.   
>  _Fine, fine. But I get to be your best man._  
>  Of course, who else would I ask? I’m marrying my best friend. 

When Brienne returned, Jaime slid his phone into his pocket and immediately took her hand; dropping a kiss to her knuckles. “My lady. Do you know what today is?”

“Of course,” Brienne said as she retook her seat. “Six hundred years ago today, our ancestors met for the first time. It was hate at first sight.”

“Much like us.”

“And it grew into love.”

Jaime grinned. “Much like us.”

Brienne brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her face. “One of the things I love about you, Jaime—”

“—one of the _many_ —”

“—and it _still_ surprises me that there are a multitude of reasons why I love you. But one of the reasons that I do is that you love the old stories as much as me. Bravery, chivalry, romance. Neither of us has had much romance in our lives.” An abusive affair. An unrequited crush. Bets and bad dates. “But _this_ is all I have ever wanted and more. You’ve given me so much love, Jaime, and I want to give you just as much in return.”

He swallowed. “You do.”

“I try.” She toyed with her bottom lip. “You deserve romance, and love, and wonder.”

“And I have it. I mean, look at tonight!” He leaned back in his chair. “A romantic dinner over sunset. Beautiful food and champagne. You haven’t dumped me.” They shared a laugh. “In fact, there’s only one way tonight could get even better.” 

Jaime checked his phone surreptitiously under the table to see if Tyrion had reached their flat and retrieved the engagement ring. There were gardens nearby; he and Brienne could go for a romantic walk, and he could propose under the stars. While he was checking his phone, Jaime missed the small, crimson box being slid onto the table in front of him. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” 

He looked over at Brienne. At the box. “ _Brienne.”_

“I love you. I want to marry you, Jaime. I am yours, until the end of my days, and I hope—”

“—yes,” he said. “YES!” Jaime shouted, startling the poor waiter bringing them a celebratory bottle of champagne. “Sorry, _sorry_. But, _yes,_ Brienne. I will marry you.” 

Blinking back tears, Jaime reached for the crimson box. Neither of them wore much jewellery; he had, in fact, considered an engagement sword for Brienne _several_ times in favour of the ring he had eventually bought her. Brienne’s proposal gift was in a similar vein to the sword: a pair of cufflinks; gold lions with a sapphire clutched in their mouths. He immediately stripped himself of the crimson ones he wore, now, and replaced them with a symbol of his betrothal to Brienne. 

“I hope they’re okay.”

“They’re perfect.” He admired them in the light. “When did you even get these?” 

Brienne flushed. “You were right, earlier. I have been distracted. Planning the proposal, talking myself _out_ of the proposal...” Her eyes widened. “Not that I didn’t want to marry you! I’ve wanted that for a _really_ long time. But I wondered whether you would prefer proposing instead.”

“No, _no,_ this is perfect.” 

Once, in that _frustrating_ year where they were neither together nor not, Brienne had told him he was _made of love._ He did enjoy romance, and offering himself wholly to another, and the one person who had held his heart for most of his life had stomped on it repeatedly. Brienne was different; Jaime had known that from their very first meeting. And by proposing herself, by _choosing_ him, Jaime knew he would never again doubt that she deemed him worthy. 

And when they stood in that sept and said their vows, Jaime would make _damn_ sure that Brienne knew that his heart was hers. That it would _always_ be hers. 


End file.
